Chapter Thirty-Three #2
“And last, but certainly not least, I have the pleasure of announcing the Most Valuable Senior award,” Sire says.
He sounds like he’s underwater. “This year, we had a truly tremendous group of seniors, and this was an extremely hard decision. I wish I could give out at least five awards, but there’s only space for one name. ”
I scan the band members. Every single person is staring at Sire with rapt attention.
Except Max.
He’s looking straight at me and the worry on his face is enough to puncture a hole in my neutral facade. I swipe at my left eye before a tear can fall, and he moves to stand.
“Nova Walsh!”
We both freeze and our heads whip to Nova.
She sits stock-still with perfect posture, her mouth open, while the entire clarinet section screams and encircles her.
Max and I both rush to Nova’s section. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brody standing as well, but his expression is full of anger and disappointment.
A fleeting moment of gratification hits me that he didn’t win, but then it’s gone.
He doesn’t deserve a second of my thoughts.
I push everything from my mind and throw my arms around Nova as soon as I’m able to get close enough.
“Nova! I’m so happy for you!”
She’s shaking. I let go of her so Max can hug her as well.
“How did I get it?” she asks.
“Because you deserve it!” I say.
Her brows furrow as she takes in my expression. “Are you upset? You wanted it so much.”
“Oh…no, it’s not…” I try my hardest to rearrange my features and push Mom further from my thoughts. “I’m not upset that you won. I’m so, so happy for you, truly.” I lean in and whisper, “I voted for you.”
She makes a little sobbing sound in the back of her throat, which brings tears to my eyes.
“I voted for you,” she says.
“We canceled out each other’s votes!” Now we’re laughing and crying.
“Nova, if you wouldn’t mind coming down to collect your award?” Sire calls, his voice bemused.
We all step back to let her get away. Sire says some other things I don’t listen to, the winners head back up to the front of the room for group photos, and the rest of the band disperses for the day. I’d like to escape with them, but Max comes up to me before I can bolt.
“I’m sorry your mom didn’t make it,” he whispers.
I bite my bottom lip. “Thanks.”
He hesitates for a moment and then turns away.
“Max?”
He spins back around immediately.
“Are things all right with you? I heard that maybe something happened with Sire? Not that you have to tell me…”
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. Ugh, his stupid, beautiful hair. “Yeah, it’s okay. I, uh, told him that I was the one who stole your key, and I gave it back to him. With the awards coming up, I didn’t want him to think it’d been your fault.”
I blink a few times. “Oh…well…thank you. What did he say?”
“He was pretty mad. I think he was close to banning me from performing at state, but then he said he wouldn’t hurt our section by pulling me out.” He chuckles humorlessly. “It was pretty clear from our conversation that I wasn’t winning the senior award, though.”
I open my mouth and close it again. Max had to have known he was sacrificing his possibility of winning MVM when he told Sire. I swallow tightly.
Just then, Dad walks up. “How’s everyone doing?”
I glance between them. I don’t want to stop talking to Max yet, but I can’t tell my dad to leave when he came to school just to see me.
“Actually, I should really go see my mom,” Max says apologetically. He takes a few steps away from us. “It was good to see you both, though.” He turns and weaves through the crowd.
Dad stares after him, then turns back to me. “Well, it was great that one of your guard members won the freshman award. Just like you! And Nova looked absolutely thunderstruck when she won.”
“Where is she, Dad?”
His face falls. “She…well, she got the times mixed up. She thought it was an hour later so she scheduled a meeting and couldn’t get out in time.”
I blink rapidly. She missed the award ceremony…for the award that she’s been obsessed with since day one of the season…because she got the time wrong? My worry and sadness recede, and anger fills me.
“I know, I know,” Dad says quietly, “but try not to be too upset with her. She’s devastated. You know how much this meant to her.”
“Oh yeah, I’m very aware of how much she cared about this award. She never let me forget it.”
He frowns. “It was an honest mistake. She’s been here for everything else.” He looks down at his phone. “She just texted that she’s leaving work now. Do you want her to come here?”
“Tell her to go home. There’s no reason to come here now.”
“All right.” He studies me for a second and then texts Mom back.
I cross my arms over my chest and stare stonily at the cinder block wall on the other side of the room.
“Are you going to be okay?” Dad sounds nervous. He’s not used to dealing with real emotions when it comes to me.
“Sure. At least Mom didn’t have to see me be a loser in real time. You can break the news over text.”
“I haven’t said anything to her about the results.” He puts a hand on my upper arm. “And you are not a loser. Do you hear me, Hazel? We are incredibly proud of you.”
I shrug again.
He pockets his phone so he can put both his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t forget, I didn’t win most valuable member as a senior either.” He lifts an eyebrow. “My best friend beat me too.”
I almost smile, hearing him speak about Mom like that. But I’m not ready for smiling.
“And honestly, as much as your mom cared about winning that award, it’s not that big of a deal. Losing it didn’t affect my future at all.” He gives me the tiniest shake. “You’ve got so much great stuff coming up—try to focus on that. And take it easy on your mom when you get home.”
He gives me a hug, and my annoyance dampens slightly. It’s nice to have a moment alone with Dad. Sometimes Mom’s overbearing presence drowns out our relationship.
“Why don’t you head to the house now,” he continues. “I need to go pick up Kelsey from school and run a few errands.”
I know what he’s doing. He’s going to kill time so Mom and I can talk alone. There’s nothing I’d rather do less, but I don’t think this is something I can avoid anymore.